Summer days
by Darkfirelight
Summary: Chlark, Set between seasons one and two. Requested by The Fallen Sky. What happens when Clark isn't willing to let go of his and Chloe's fledgling relationship. One-shot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.

Summary: Chlark, set the summer between Season One and Two. A request by The Fallen Sky. What happens when Clark decides he's not willing to let his chance with Chloe slip through his fingers?

* * *

Chloe stopped in her tracks as she stepped through the revolving doors leading into the Daily Planet. The young blonde stared at the figure on the other side of the glass, stunned. "Clark?"

Waiting in the lobby for her arrival stood Clark Kent, her best friend since the beginning of eighth grade. "Chloe," The raven-haired youth started, anxiously wringing his hands. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" He murmured, glancing around the full lobby with expressive blue eyes.

The girl stared at him for a moment longer before shaking her head and stepping aside to let other people through. "Sure, let's just... Go over here, then." She gestured to the professional black couch over to the side of the lobby, partially obscured by a mahogany table and a potted plant with thin green leaves, obviously fake by it's rubbery look.

The two teens stepped over to the side and took a seat. "Look, Clark; Not that I don't appreciate you coming all this way to see me; trust me, I do. But I've gotta be at my Editor's desk in five minutes or i'm gonna be late-"

Clark cut across her. "Then I'll be quick, Chloe. The weeks leading up to Spring formal... I've only ever had feelings for Lana. She's always been there, just out of reach, you know? But... Recently I've started having feelings for you, too; And... I don't want to lose this, us." He gestured between the two of them nervously. "I know what I did at Spring formal... I know I hurt you, but please... Give me another chance." He begged, deep-blue eyes meeting her own dark-green.

"Clark..." She stuttered, eyes wide. "I..." She swallowed suddenly, standing up. "Listen, I've gotta go, we can talk about this later, alright?" She nodded decisively. "Meet me after work and we'll talk." And with that the petite blonde walked off, leaving the large raven-haired boy staring after her.

Chloe brushed a hand through her hair, blinking the tears out of her eyes. She wasn't sure how she felt right now, but... If he really wanted too... _'Think about that later, Sullivan.'_ She stood sharply, staring ahead and vowing to get through the day without thinking on this.

"Morning Ms. Sullivan."

"Good morning Maggie." She greeted warmly, waving a hello to her. Chloe had gotten to know the woman over the phone when she had been called about an interview over her kidnapping ordeal, and the two had hit it off when they met in person.

"Mr. Taylor will see you now." The older woman said primly, yet still with a small smile on her lips as she buzzed the blonde in.

Thanks, Maggie." She grinned, stepping into the office. "Max!" She greeted.

"Sullivan, do you have that paper I asked for?" He barked.

Chloe smiled behind her hand. Despite his gruff attitude Max Taylor was a friendly man, mostly putting on an act due to his young age, barely breaching his mid-thirties and with brown hair and eyes and a slight-yet-average build. "Yes Mr. Taylor," She started, pulling out a thin folder and flipping it open to the front page. "'The sliding scales of Idealism versus Cynicism.'" She read off dutifully.

"Excellent, now just leave it on my desk and I'll read over it. Pembrooks needs some help with the Obits." He hinted.

Chloe groaned.

* * *

Seven hours later found Chloe stepping out of the building just in time for the rush hour. "Chloe!" The girl turned and found herself face-to-chest with the blue-clad top of her best friend.

"Clark." She replied warily, pasting on a smile. "How can I help you?"

He looked down at her mournfully, somehow managing to give off the impression of a kicked puppy despite his larger stature. "Don't you remember? We were going to talk about... Us." He finished softly.

The blonde journalist winced and nervously brushed her hair back behind her ear, smile falling into a near-neutral line. "Yeah... I..."

"Chloe, Please," He started. "Listen."

The girl gulped and then, with a sigh, motioned for him to continue.

"Thank you." He said in relief. "When we went to Spring formal together I was ecstatic, I have to admit I'd barely thought of you that way before, but when I did..." He licked his lips agitatedly. "I was always worried, I'd always think to myself; 'What if this affects our friendship? What if this ruins things between us? What if...?' Clark trailed off, looking away. "I was afraid, and that's why I let you just... Get away. But now... Now I think back on it and wonder if maybe we could work this out? Maybe... Maybe you could give me a second chance?" He looked back at her with puppy-dog eyes.

Chloe sighed again, and met his eyes. "Clark, you have to understand; what you did was everything I was afraid of. It was everything i was scared of. And I told you before we went that... That I could never forgive you." She spoke softly.

"I know. But you have to understand, I wasn't just leaving because I wanted to be with Lana. I was leaving because she was in danger; and I would have left just as quickly if it were you, or Pete, or my parents, or anyone else in danger, because it's just part of who I am." The entire time he spoke Clark looked her in the eyes, hoping to convey his sincerity. He succeeded.

"Alright." She finally replied after a moment. "God help me, but... Alright." She repeated firmly. "One more chance, Clark. Just one."

"Thank you."

* * *

A full month the two of them had been dating when it happened; a full month of Chloe working her way through the work before her, a full month of Clark visiting her at the Daily Planet and occasionally fending off the odd interested photographer. (And she'd never seen someone turn such a pale white before. Poor Jimmy...)

The event in mention, of course, was when Chloe finally got in over her head.

"Give me your purse!" The thief cried, gloved hand twitching on the trigger of the black handgun he held tightly despite his quivering.

Even Chloe, inexperienced as she was, could tell he had obviously never done this before. She tried to keep calm. "Alright, just calm down, I'll just..."

The man snarled and jerked the hand holding the gun closer to her than before. "Don't tell me what to do, bitch! Just give me your damn purse before I blow your goddamn brains out!" He repeated, dark eyes on her face.

She swallowed and then slowly pulled out her purse. "Chloe?" She turned, momentarily forgetting the situation she was in at the sound of his voice.

"Chloe!" Clark yelled as he caught sight of both her and the situation before him. "Chloe, move!" He started to run forward and the other man, obviously not expecting seemingly-suicidal sixteen year-olds stumbled backward, instinctively pulling the trigger.

Chloe watched in horror as the barrel of the gun flashed, a bullet exiting the chamber. And then disappearing in a blur of red-and-blue.

"C-Clark?" She stuttered, staring at the hulking form of her boyfriend. She turned to look behind him and noticed the burglar-turned-attempted-murdered lying in a heap on the floor. "Whoa." She murmured, emerald eyes wide.

"I can explain." Clark blurted, nervously gulping.

"Alright." Despite the tension of the situation she couldn't help herself. "But you'd better not tell me you've just been eating your Wheaties." She quipped.

And despite the situation, or maybe even because of it, looking at the confused look on Clark Kent's face Chloe Sullivan fell a little more in love.

* * *

_Ten years later_

Chloe Sullivan smiled as she waited at the table for her best friend to arrive. Despite all the years they had been together his lateness still managed to amuse rather than irritate her. After all, wasn't he on time when it mattered?

"And here he is, the guest of honor." She smiled, waiting until he sat opposite her before speaking again. "So, tell me Mr. Kent, how does it feel to hit that five-year mark?" She queried.

He returned her smile and absently picked up a menu. "You tell me, Mrs. Kent." He grinned.

She turned slightly to pick up her wine glass. "Already ordered Clark, your favourite." She nodded to the dish before them.

The young man blushed and picked up his own wine glass. "Ah, right. A toast?"

"A toast." She nodded imperiously. "To five years of married life."

"To five years of married life." He raised his glass before pausing. "Ah, I've got too." He hedged sheepishly.

She smiled underneath the hand holding her glass. "Alright, just... hurry."

He nodded and then, with a sudden gust of wind he left the booth.

The blonde reporter stared after him, an expression of amusement tracing her face as she pondered on where life had taken her. _'Always leaving before the main event, Clark.' _She mused.

And despite this, Chloe Sullivan felt herself fall a little bit more in love with him.

Lois could have her 'Superman'. Her super-powered knight-in-shining-armor.

Because at the end of the day Chloe had Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter, bumbling farm-boy and the boy of her dreams.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
